


Sansa Spins the Bottle

by milkmanofhumankindness



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, House Party, M/M, Spin the Bottle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 13:03:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9550310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkmanofhumankindness/pseuds/milkmanofhumankindness
Summary: At last, Margaery broke her gaze, and looked up at Jon. “Lord Snow,” she said sweetly. “Would you mind dreadfully if I were to kiss your girlfriend?”Jon smiled back. “I’m not the one you need to ask for permission,” he replied.Smirking, Margaery fixed Sansa once again with her blue eyes. “Sansa?” she asked, her voice soft. “May I?”





	

It was just past midnight, and the party was in full swing. Loras and Renly had long since snuck away to a cupboard somewhere, and in the living room Bran was still swinging round in his chair like a madman, Meera shrieking with delight in his lap. Upstairs, Sansa nestled closer to Jon, wrapped snugly in a duvet dragged from the bed where Margaery’s parents usually slept. She’d polished off most of a bottle of wine already, and that pleasant, fuzzy feeling was settling into her limbs, making her movements slow and languid. Above her, Jon leant against the bed, his eyes closed and one arm firmly holding her to his waist. She stretched up to sneak a kiss on his stubbled chin, and he opened one eye with a smirk, before reaching his other hand down to tickle her til she squealed.

Across from them, Robb and Arya were engaged in some fierce, drunken conversation, while Theon dozed against the bookshelves. Gendry sat awkwardly to one side, looking profoundly out of place.

With sudden force, the door flew open, and the hostess herself swept in. Margaery had a bottle in her hand and a glint in her eye, and she was moving with purpose. She flung herself down into Robb’s lap, and looked around at them with a grin. “Right,” she declared. “Enough sitting around, you lot. We’re going to play a game.”

At this, Theon sat up, his eyes narrowed. “What sort of game?” he growled suspiciously.

In answer, Margaery tipped the bottle to her lips and drained its contents, then set it with a flourish on the ground before them. “Voila,” she said, still smirking. “Spin the bottle.”

A groan went up from the group. “Piss off,” said Theon, lying down again.

“Not happening.” Arya sat back against the wall and folded her arms. “Drinking games are stupid and kissing games are stupider still.”

“I think it might be fun,” Gendry volunteered gruffly, and Sansa looked at him in surprise. He was sitting very straight and looking determinedly at his feet, but every now and then, his eyes flickered to where Arya sat. Sansa smiled to herself.

“Come now, sweetling,” said Robb, jiggling Margaery on his knee. “Are my kisses not enough for you?” He twisted a lock of hair in one finger and tugged her down to him, but she pushed against him playfully. 

“Perhaps I still want to play the field, Mr Stark,” she replied, her blue eyes dancing. He chuckled at that, and Arya made a puking sound.

“Look, even if I wanted to play, which I don’t,” said Theon, sitting up again in agitation, “there isn’t even anyone here I’d want to kiss.”

“Me neither,” said Arya firmly, and Sansa watched Gendry visibly deflate.

Her chest ached with compassion for him, and before she could stop herself, she was saying, “I’m in!” The others swung to look at her with wide eyes. “What?” she said defensively, feeling herself blush, “Gendry’s right. It might be fun.”

Jon smiled, and gave her a squeeze. “Hear that, Robb?” he said, looking up. “Your little sister’s got more balls than you have.”

Robb laughed. “All right, all right!” he said, flinging his hands up. “I’ll play. But I am not kissing any family members!”

“Deal,” said Margaery, smugly. “No incest allowed. Just lots of tongue.” She picked up the bottle, and threw it at Jon’s feet. “I think our Lord Snow here should start us off.”

Rolling his eyes, Jon leant across to pick up the bottle. He put it to the ground and gave it a good spin.

It jerked, jumped, swung around, and landed pointing at Robb.

“No,” her brother laughed aloud. “Absolutely not! I said, no family!”

“Family friends don’t count!” Margaery crowed back. “Kiss!”

With a smile twisting his lips, Jon looked to Sansa, and bent his head in the direction of Robb. “Do you mind?” he asked, his voice low.

She shook her head, feeling giggly from the wine now. “Go on,” she said with glee.

“Right then!” Robb half-shouted. “Come here, Snow!” He cupped his best friend’s face in his hands and gave him a noisy smack on the lips. The others cheered, all except for Arya who had her face in her hands and was making retching noises.

“What do you think, Jon?” Robb said as he withdrew and pulled Margaery back onto his lap. “Have I wooed you?”

Jon grinned. “I certainly think I chose the wrong Stark.” There was another cheer at that, and Sansa gave him a good whack across the chest.

“Pass the bottle along, Jon!” Margaery commanded. But just as he handed it to Gendry beside him, the door opened again, and Loras and Renly staggered in, locked in a passionate embrace. At the cries of disgust from the party they broke apart, and beheld their friends in surprise. 

“Apologies, all,” Renly said, grinning widely and somewhat breathless. He was zipping his fly up hastily. “We thought we’d find this room rather less… occupied.”

“What are you all doing in here?” Loras said crossly, re-buttoning his shirt with deft fingers.

“We’re spinning the bottle!” Margaery cried, grinning wickedly. “You’re just in time to join us!”

Loras rolled his eyes. “Absolutely not-” he began, but to his dismay, Renly had already plonked himself down beside Arya.

“Brilliant!” he said, still smiling. “A chance to get to know you all better! Whose turn is it, then?”

As Loras sulkily joined the circle, they turned their attention back to Gendry. His hand rested uncertainly on the bottle. He looked down at it, his brow furrowed in intense concentration, and his eyes flickered up once more to Arya. She caught his eye and he flushed bright red, and gave the bottle a wild spin.

Sansa felt herself hold her breath as it swung round. Gendry was staring at it intently, looking almost desperate. The bottle began to move slower, spinning past Margaery, past Robb, and slowing almost to a stop as it reached Arya. Gendry’s eyes grew wide, but then to his obvious horror, the bottle kept moving, swinging right round to point at… Renly.

“Aha!” Renly cried cheerfully. “I’ve always had a thing for the blacksmith-types!” Gendry flushed even redder, and stared at Renly in mute terror. “Come here then, handsome,” Renly grinned, and leant right across the circle to plant a firm kiss upon Gendry’s surprised lips. He sat back, to the sounds of whooping and wolf-whistling from the others, and gave the blushing boy a big wink. “Expert technique. Better than I could have dreamed of.”

At that, even Gendry finally cracked a smile, and rolled his eyes at the others’ cheering. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he muttered, grinning and shaking his head good-naturedly.

In fact, Sansa noticed that the only person who didn’t seem to find it funny was Arya. Her sister had sat up looking indignant, and was eyeing Renly crossly. But there was no time to analyse her attitude, because Margaery had snatched the bottle from Gendry now, and placed it in the middle of the circle. She leant in, providing Sansa with a startling view down her tight dress, and gave the bottle a coy little flick.

It barely moved, spinning in a half-circle, shuffling just far enough to land unmistakably at Sansa’s feet.

The jeers began again, and Renly jostled Sansa with his elbow, but her gaze was fixed on Margaery. The other girl had straightened up, and was regarding Sansa with her head tilted to one side, her eyes unsettlingly blue. Sansa felt a flutter in her stomach that she couldn’t blame on the wine.

At last, Margaery broke her gaze, and looked up at Jon. “Lord Snow,” she said sweetly. “Would you mind dreadfully if I were to kiss your girlfriend?”

Jon smiled back. “I’m not the one you need to ask for permission,” he replied.

Smirking, Margaery fixed Sansa once again with her blue eyes. “Sansa?” she asked, her voice soft. “May I?”

Sansa could not reply, staring as she was at Margaery’s red, round lips. She nodded mutely, feeling herself flush, but the older girl smiled. “Excellent,” she breathed, and drew forward, her movements slow and catlike. Sansa caught herself leaning in too, and then Margaery’s hand was at the nape of her neck, pulling them together, and her lips were upon hers, and – oh. 

It was quite unlike any kiss Sansa had ever had. Margaery’s lips were soft but firm, and her fragrant hair fell about them like a curtain. She flicked her tongue out and Sansa parted her lips with a gasp. Suddenly they were upon each other, Margaery’s tongue mingling with her own. She tasted sweet, like fizzy wine and lemon cakes, and Sansa felt herself leaning into the kiss hungrily. Margaery’s hand twisted in her hair and pulled her closer, and for an all-too-brief moment Sansa felt herself pressed against her, felt the soft curves of Margaery’s breasts against her own, and she longed to lift her hands and touch.

And then they heard Loras clear his throat meaningfully, and the spell was broken. Margaery drew back with a shaky laugh, and tossed her hair over one shoulder. Robb shook his head at her. “You’re corrupting my sister, you harlot,” he growled, pulling her to him. “You’ll have to be punished for that.” 

“Ugh.” Arya shook her head in disgust. “That’s my cue. I need a drink.” She stood up, and walked towards the door, but turned back at the threshold. “Well?” she said brusquely, glaring at Gendry. “Aren’t you coming?” At her words, the boy scrambled to his feet and darted after her.

The others seemed to lose interest in the game too. Theon lolled back against the bookshelves and Loras and Renly rapidly began entwining limbs again.

But Sansa, for her part, was still sitting motionless, staring at Margaery. She lifted a finger to her lips, feeling quite lightheaded. Suddenly, two strong arms encircled her waist, and Jon pulled her back into his lap. “Now that,” he said in a low voice against her ear, “was a sight to behold.” Subtly, he brushed a hand down across her breast. “Why, Sansa,” he breathed. “Your heart is racing.”

Sansa turned to look at him, and was surprised to see his eyes were dark, and there was colour high in his cheeks. She shifted, and found him hard beneath her. A slow smile crept across her face. “It seems as if you liked that little show, Lord Snow,” she replied, pleased with how even she managed to keep her voice. “If you like, we could find the guest room, and I could give you a hands-on, one-on-one experience?”

His lips quirked upwards. “That, my lady,” he said softly, “is the best idea you’ve had all night.”

But as he pulled her upwards and from the room, Sansa couldn’t resist one glance back. Margaery was straddling Robb now, her head thrown back in laughter at something he’d said. Her golden hair hung loose, and her back arched almost obscenely. Sansa felt her breath catch. But then she was through the door, and out in the dark hallway, and Jon had his hands all over her before they even reached the bedroom.


End file.
